


Stitches

by Hopeful_Foolx



Series: Whumptober 2019 [11]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood and stuff, Erik whump, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-X-Men: Dark Phoenix (Movie), Pre-Relationship, The ship is only implied, Whump, Whumptober 2019, X-Men: Dark Phoenix (Movie) Spoilers, seriously, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 21:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21083021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeful_Foolx/pseuds/Hopeful_Foolx
Summary: After the fight, Charles is not okay. Neither is Erik, but worse.Spoliers for Dark Phoenix!Promptfill for day 11 of Whumptober 2019 , stitches





	Stitches

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am again! THis prompt sounded just perfect for Cherik, I'm sorry. You know the rules by now, I am not a native english speaker, all the mistakes are mine and I am sorry for them.

“Erik! This is nonsense, come on!" 

Because Raven died, Jeanne is gone, he failed, he lost them, couldn’t protect either of them. He is impatient, nervous. Pissed. Worried. Worried as hell. And Erik is not reasonable. He knows he has his boundaries, but the helmet is gone, he can feel him being in pain. He is also not blind, the blood is also visible on the shirt as a wet stain. On Erik’s hands and he really, really badly wants to ust knock him out and make Hank look at this, but no, of course he won’t do that. But Jeanne hit Erik with… something and it’s a miracle that Erik is still on his feet somehow, pure stubbornness keeping him upright. 

"I can fend for myself - care for your students, Charles, I am not one of them!”

“Yes, I know, because the are reasonable, I can talk to them if they’re doing something stupid Also, they really know when they’re bleeding out, Erik!”

“Charles, I am not bleeding out, it’s a scratch and-” Whatever he wants to say next gets cut off as Adrenalin, stubbornness or whatever else kept him upright this long leaves abruptly and his posture falters. His shoulders slumping and he has to steady himself against the wall, sitting down on the stones of the broken building a second later. 

Charles swallow a comment as a wave washes over him. Erik isn’t stubborn. He is scared. He doesn’t know if this is worse, but he wheels himself closer. 

“I-” He corrects himself immediately. “We, we just lost Raven. Jeanne. Please, don’t make me lose you too. I know… I can feel that you are scared…” He wants to grab the hand that Erik is not currently pressing to his side, but he doesn’t, catching himself as the thought crosses his mind. The next moment he is not sure if it is his own. 

“I don’t have to look into your head, Erik. I can feel your pain without, I can see it. Let me… Just please, let us help. I won’t make you do anything. But you’re hurt and…” There is a silent I love you on his lips and he let’s it stay there. It was too long ago. Erik had had a family in between, a life. It had been years since they even saw each other. He couldn’t expect anything now. Not after all that happened, happened today. The are both hurt, tired, he can’t bring him into this situation now. 

He hopes but doesn’t expect the look of silent defeat on Erik’s face and just nods. It’s difficult for him to admit, and he knows from before that he doesn’t deal well with being hurt. Worse than- no. 

He calls Hank over who gently lifts the shirt while Erik looks away, stiff as a wooden board he sits there on the stones, eyes open but far away. 

“I need to stitch this up and get a look at it properly, preferably in the manson. I’ll give you something for the pain and-”

“I’m fine. Save it for the others. Just put a bandage on it and I’ll be fine.” Charles groans and Hank shoots him a look. 

“No way. This is serious - I’m serious. You can bleed out from this or get an infection, this already looks bad." 

"Erik!” I don’t want to lose you too. I can’t lose you too. I just can’t. 

“No painkillers. Charles?” He pushes himself up where Hank has to steady him a moment later, carefully bringing one arm over his shoulder. It would be a victory that he let’s him help, that they are allowed to touch him, but Charles doesn’t feel that way. He is too worried, too tired, too hurt and he has too many thoughts in his head to feel more than a silent wave of relief. His own _thank you_ echoes in his head. Stubbornness may have saved Eriks life multiple times, but here, home, with Charles he still thinks it necessary, and Charles doesn’t want to imagine why. The helmet was just a different kind of mask, and now, right here, there is none. He stays away from his feelings, but he still gets them. There will be time for that later, he hopes, later, when everything is over. When they both had some rest they could talk. He wants to convince Erik to stay, this time. Just for a while. He had tried that many times over the last years, but everytime Erik left. He tries not to remember Cuba too vivid. 

He is not prepared of what follows. 

It’s the bloodloss, that triggers it. They are in the plane and Charles keeps tabs on everyone. And everyone is just as tired as he is. But the steady flow of thoughts that surrounds him like background noise he doesn’t have to listen into is wrong, suddenly. A deep wrong feeling is all he gets as he concentrates on the person near the wall, sitting half slumped against a box of medical supplies. When was the last time he saw him sleeping? He tries to remember and nearly fails. So long ago when they were both different people. Before Cuba. There is one memory, after the whole ordeal with apocalypse, when Erik calmed down from what Hank had called his “metal trip”, when Erik all but collapsed on their way home, but it had been different. It wasn’t sleep. He looked pale and clammy, his skin nearly transparent, shadows under his eyes and unmoving - it hits him a second later. Just like now. 

“Erik?” He tries, verbal, sitting up straighter from his own spot on the floor, with a sponsored blanket far more comfortable than any seat as he really just felt like lying down. 

There is no answer, and he reaches out to a muddled confusion he doesn’t dare to disturb as exhausted as he is. Eriks thoughts tend to overwhelm him when he is not careful, in a way he doesn’t completely understand. Not even after all this time.

He drags himself to the other side of their area, a few feet only, his blanket in tow without realizing it. 

“Erik!” He grabs his hand. Cold. “No no no… Erik, come on, open your eyes!” He gets a silent grunt in return but nothing more. _Hank! I need you back here, it’s Erik!_ It takes him only a moment to spot the red that seeped into Eriks trousers and dripped to the floor where the boxes are. Hank slithers to the floor next to them and puts a hand on his pulse. It unnecessary to look at the wound now that they can both see the blood, but Charles still has to swallow and close his eyes for a moment. He should have insisted, right the moment it became clear that Erik was very much not fine. Not… let him have his will and get a bandage and just sit down in the plane until they are back at the manson. 

“He’s lost too much blood, I need to stitch this up.” Hank is already moving, grabbing the blanket from Charles, who tries his best to help move Erik entirely to the floor. He has Eriks head on his knees and leans against the wall himself for support. He watches Hank preparing a needle and cleaning the wound, as suddenly, the man in his lap twitches. Just a bit, his head moving, his eyes struggling to open. Hank pays this no mind and Charles wants to move his arms to keep Erik down if it comes to it, but his eyes stay closed and he… talks. 

“Nein, lass das…” Charles doesn’t understand a word, but he also doesn’t have to. He is only half conscious, laying here, vulnerable. God knows what he things where he is. What memory this brings back. 

“Erik, It’s okay. You are safe, Hank needs to take a quick look at your wound.” 

“Ich habe- ich kann es doch nicht. Ich kann es nicht, es tut mir leid aber-” He stops and begins moving more. 

“Lass mich!” and then, much quieter. “Bitte…” Charles feels bile rising up in his throat. He doesn’t need to know what he is saying, he doesn’t need any confirmation. He gets it without a word in his language. He feels it in a wave of thoughts and feelings. Loss, dread, shame and he stops counting it after it. He leans forward and puts both hands on Eriks shoulders, one to keep him down and second to lean his forehead against his. _I’m here. God Erik I’m here, it’s okay…H_e swallows hard._ Erik is still here._ He has to tell this to himself multiple times, after- after-

There is no response as Erik is too far gone. 

It is… not pretty. The thrashing and talking, becoming quiet murmurs and tears when Charles forced Erik to lay still, tears in his own face, Hanks tight and his eyes keeping on the wound. It only takes minutes, but it could be hours and Charles wouldn’t know the difference. Erik is sobbing in his leg when Hank finally puts the needle away. Charles doesn’t want to know what he says or thinks, keeps up his own shields and tries to keep away as far as possible. He has to, or the emotions would overwhelm him again as they nearly did before. It’s different with Erik, it always has been, and he doesn’t know if it’s a good or bad thing. He strokes strands of wet hair away from Eriks forehead, cleans his face to wipe the tears away. Hank does… something, talks about fluids and how Erik needs a transfusion when they are home, but Charles only nods and listens with less attention than he gives Eriks face. His eyes are screwed shut, still, and the tears keep coming even now. It hurts, it hurts him on a deep level he can’t explain. From long ago, when they were still sitting on the stairs and playing chess. Nothing was okay or easy back then, but they were still together and… 

He reaches out a mental hand, careful and softly. He doesn’t want to scare him, or trigger the wave of memories that he can feel are just held back by pure stubbornness. 

_I’m here, Erik. You can relax now, I’ve got you._ It takes a moment. Two, until there is a slight, quiet and careful reply. Just a thought, manifesting out of the chaos. It’s like the day they met, underwater. When he saved his life. 

_Charles? Charles, I can’t- _He can’t move, can’t control the pain, can’t do anything, Charles saw to that. And it pains him that it is better that way.

_It’s okay. Please rest, we’ll talk later._ Much later. Much later he hopes. 

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Translations: 
> 
> “No, don’t”
> 
> “I have- I can’t do it. I can’t do it, I’m sorry, but-”
> 
> “Leave me! … Please…”
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
